


Love on Other Worlds

by FroldGapp



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Shiro (Voltron), Comedy, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Romance, SHEITH - Freeform, blade of marmora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FroldGapp/pseuds/FroldGapp
Summary: After the war, Shiro joins Keith in the blades as they transition to humanitarian work.





	Love on Other Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> Lil fix-it request from tumblr. Get at me /froldgapp on tumblr and pillowfort.

_Starting this again as I accidentally lost the first one :(_

‘You’ve got something,’ Shiro began, thumbing the side of Keith’s mouth, ‘right here.’

‘Wha–?’ Keith pulled back and rubbed at the spot with the heel of his hand. It came away brownish-green. ‘This is cow dung.’

Shiro shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to say.’

The table they were sitting at bounced as Zethrid slammed her tray down, swinging one leg over the bench to cosy up next to Keith. Her bowl was over-flowing with gruel, and there was enough fruit piled onto a plate to feed someone like Keith for a month. She offered Keith an appraising look, before popping a small tomato-like ball into her mouth. ‘You got shit on your face, short stuff.’

Keith squawked and reached for a napkin, driving it into his water before using it to scrub furiously at his face. ‘Nice waiting for lunch to tell me, guys.’

They were on Pfol, a small planet in the Olkarian system that was as wet as it was warm. In a society resembling something like medieval Europe, the people of Pfol required assistance building up their agricultural resources again after the Galra sent most of their farmers and machinery off-planet to support the war effort. What Pfol had in the thousands were large eight-legged “cows” that lived off nitrogen in the atmosphere, were utterly inedible and shat almost constantly. Keith, in a bout of unnecessary but chronic heroism, had fallen face first into a large cow pat trying to wrangle a calf into a pen after it had been separated from its mother. He had to be pulled free by Zethrid and Shiro. The space wolf and Ezor were no hope at all, while Acxa deemed it a fitting punishment for his misplaced gallantry and so left him to steam in the shit (flippity hair or not).

‘You were very brave,’ said Shiro, not even pretending to hide his smile.

In his Blade’s uniform, Shiro cut an impressive figure–even sitting down. His trial was brief and generous, as were those of Lotor’s former generals. They were issued blades and uniforms immediately; Kolivan swearing them in in a humble ceremony that doubled as a memorial for their fallen. It’s not that the Blades were lax since their numbers were so viciously decimated, but trial by saving all reality seemed proof enough of their intentions, and their grit.

‘I’ll remember this the next time the wolf runs off with your arm,’ grumbled Keith, pout extraordinary.

Zethrid groaned and shoved a handful of blackish berries into her mouth. She spoke through them, morsels flying. ‘I wish you’d name that thing. How about Zippy? Or  _Destroyer_?’

In reply, Keith picked up a spiny peach and shoved it into her mouth. He grabbed his own tray and extracted himself from the table. ‘I better get back to Acxa or she’ll throw me in another cow pat.’

‘It’s not fitting for the leader of this operation to be shit-faced,’ Shiro said like it was the most innocent thing in the world.

‘I should kick you out of the blades for your terrible sense of humour alone,’ Keith responded, though he smiled despite himself.

‘Later, squirt,’ said Zethrid, as Keith made his way back to the mess, ambling through the crowd with some effort given their almost tragic lack of spatial awareness.

‘Keith!’ Shiro’s voice called from behind him. ‘Wait up.’

Keith paused and was rewarded with a Pfolian bard smashing its lute into his shin. ‘ _Ouch_.’ Shiro approached him, smile as wide and bright as the sun. ‘What?’ Keith asked, suspicious.

Shiro took his wrist in hand and tugged him closer. After a long, considering look, he nested his fingers in Keith’s hair and kissed him lightly on the temple. ‘You okay?’ he asked quietly.

‘If this is a warm-up for you asking if I “feel shitty”, I unsubscribe.’

Shiro threw back his head and laughed. When he looked back at Keith his eyes were bright and warm. He bit his lip and ran his thumb along Keith’s brow and down across his cheek. 

‘Love you, shit face,’ he said.

‘You’re fired,’ said Keith, but he was smiling. 


End file.
